Where Did We Go Wrong?
by Broadway Wednesday
Summary: Based on the song 'Where Did We Go Wrong' from the Addams Family Musical, with a series of one shots relating to the events mentioned in the song.
1. We taught her to hunt

**A/N: Hi all, this is my first attempt at fanfiction since 2009, so please give me advice, criticism, whatever, I'll accept it all gratefully.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Addams Family. **

**We Taught Her To Hunt**

The young girl was cruelly awakened on the morning of her fourth birthday by a harsh light as her mother entered the room. Little Wednesday looked up at the clock on her mantle piece, then to her mother,

"Mother," she murmured, "what's going on? It's too early."

"Darling," replied Morticia as she retrieved a dress from her daughter's wardrobe, "Happy Birthday, now, your father and I are taking you on a hunting trip."

Too tired to comprehend what her mother was saying, Wednesday merely nodded. She groggily obliged as her mother lifted her arms to help her get dressed. Once she was ready, Morticia led the girl by the hand out of the room, down the stairs and into the foyer, where her father was waiting for them.

"Happy Birthday Paloma," he smiled broadly at his young daughter.

She stared up at him through half-closed eyes, "Morning father, what is going on?"

"Why, Paloma, today is your fourth birthday! As an Addams, this means that your parents take you on your first hunting trip," replied Gomez.

Wednesday perked up immediately upon hearing this, "Do I get to kill anything?"

"Not today Wednesday," replied Morticia, "today, you learn the basics, we'll get to the killing."

"Damn," the girl pouted.

"Wednesday, mind your language," scolded Morticia, "you can't speak to us like that, at least not until you're older."

"Sorry Mother," the girl deadpanned, clearly not sorry.

Gomez took his daughter's hand, "Come Paloma."

The small family left their forboding mansion and walked into the heavily treed area in which they lived.

The Addams family soon found itself crouching down on a dirt path in Central Park. Gomez was instructing his daughter in the art of tracking.

".. a very important part of hunting, Paloma, is tracking."

"Yes," the matriarch continued, "without tracking we would never find anything to hunt."

Wednesday nodded, pretending she understood all of this, but in all honesty was just too tired.

Eventually the young family had managed to track down a rabbit, it was snacking on some grass, near the entrance to the park.

"Now Wednesday, normally, we wouldn't track anything this far into the park, as there are often many people around," explained Morticia.

"But since this is your first hunting trip, we're making an exception," finished Gomez.

"Do I get to kill it now?" the girl asked, impatiently.

Morticia and Gomez shared a look with each other, trying to decide whether or not they should risk their daughter firing an arrow near the entrance of Central Park. However it was early, so they decided it would be worth it to see their daughter happy on her birthday.

"Of course Darling," replied Morticia.

Gomez produced a small package from his hunting bag, "For you Paloma, happy birthday."

Wednesday enthusiastically took the brown paper package from her father and tore it open, throwing the paper in a ball behind her.

Inside was a small, Wednesday sized, bow with a quiver containing five arrows.

"Go ahead, Paloma."

Wednesday loaded a small arrow onto the string. She stretched her arm in front of her, clasping the bow in her non-dominant hand, and pulled the string back to her cheek.

She felt her father gently lower her elbow so that it was straight. Thinking for a moment in attempt to aim, she shot the arrow.

It missed the rabbit.

By quite a lot.

Gomez and Morticia shared another look, "She shoots like Fester," said Morticia.

"Perhaps we should practise a bit tonight, Paloma," said Gomez, looking at his daughter.

He noticed that Wednesday had her small hand on her cheek, looking a bit more than slightly upset.

"Morticia," he said.

His wife turned to look at their daughter, "Oh dear."

She walked to the girl and crouched beside her, gently coaxing her to remove her hand.

When she did, the mother saw that the girl's hand was coated in a layer of rich, red blood.

Gomez took the her hand and wiped it with a handkerchief from his pocket while his wife examined Wednesday's cheek.

"It's just a small cut," murmured the matriarch, "you just had the arrow too close to your cheek, that's probably why you missed the rabbit too darling."

Wednesday nodded, she had her bottom lip caught in her teeth, preventing herself from crying out.

_Addams don't cry_ she thought to herself.

Gomez lifted her into his arms as Morticia pressed his bloodied handkerchief into their daughter's hand, "Hold that on your cheek Wednesday, it'll slow down the bleeding."

The small family walked solemnly back to their house in the depths of Central Park.

When they arrived at the house Morticia rung the door bell, a large foghorn sounded and the door was promptly opened by their butler, Lurch.

He stepped aside to let them in, a look of concern crossed his face as he saw the bloodied handkerchief in the four year old's hand.

"Mmmurgh," he mumbled.

"She's okay, just caught the arrow on her cheek," said Morticia, as she followed her husband into their living room.

Gomez placed the girl down on a lounge.

The parents could both see that their daughter still looked a bit panicked. Morticia ran her hand over Wednesday's fore head as she walked past her and into the next room. When she returned her arms were laden with birthday presents for the girl.

"Happy Birthday darling," she smiled as she placed the presents down on the floor in front Wednesday.

Wednesday sat up and removed the bloodied cloth from her cheek, Morticia could see that the bleeding had stopped. She picked the handkerchief up from the cushion beside Wednesday and passed it to Lurch, who left the room momentarily while he disposed of it, returning with a poorly wrapped gift of his own to give to the girl.

"I want to open Lurch's present first," Wednesday demanded.

The family obliged and the tall butler bent down so his head was levelled with Wednesday's, he murmured something which could only be interpreted by the family as "Happy Birthday."

Inside the paper was a small glass container, encasing two large spiders.

Wednesday instantly grabbed the butler by the neck engulfing him in a hug, "Thank you Lurch," she cried enthusiastically.

The remainder of the presents were unwrapped, most of which were dolls, as well as a small guillotine ("an accessory every doll _should_ come with", Morticia quipped).

"And time, now, Wednesday for your last present," Gomez announced, grasping his wife's hand.

"Bubele," Morticia murmured under her breath at the gesture.

"What is it?" demanded the four year old.

The parents looked at each other, "You're going to get a baby brother or sister in eight months time," Morticia said with a smile.

There was a pause.

"Wednesday, what do you think?" asked her father.

The girl held up a small finger, indicating for her father to wait.

She thought a bit longer, then looked up at her parents.

"Okay, but you'll have to teach me to aim before they get here."


	2. We taught her to aim

Wednesday bolted down the stairs from her room into the living room, where she knew her parents would be sitting, probably her mother would be knitting, and her father might be reading on his head. She figured now was a good a time as any for her parents to teach her how to aim. She had her quiver containing the arrows strapped over her shoulder and her bow in her dominant hand. As she ran she found herself tripping over the bow multiple times. When she arrived at the entrance to the living room both of her little knees were battered and she sported a bruise on her head from hitting the bannister. The four and a half year old ran into the room.

"Mother, Father, I'm ready to learn how to aim my bow now! Oh - " she stopped.

Morticia and Gomez were entangled in each other's arms in a passionate embrace.

"Sorry," she said awkwardly, eying her toes, "I'll come back later."

Her parents un-entwined. Morticia smiled at the girl.

"Nonsense," said her father boisterously, "I promised I would teach you today and so I shall."

"Isn't mother going to come too?" asked Wednesday.

The two adults shared a look.

"Wednesday," started Morticia, "I understand that I promised you I would help to teach you how to aim, but I'm very tired now, the baby is taking up a lot of my energy."

"Oh," replied Wednesday, "but it's not even born yet? How can it take up your energy?"

"The baby is inside your mother," explained Gomez simply, "so it uses her food, like a parasite, and sometimes that makes her tired."

Wednesday walked over to her mother and climbed onto her lap, she put her hands over her mother's protruding belly and whispered into it, "I think I'm going to like you, I like parasites."

With that she climbed off of her mother's lap and took her father's hand to lead him out of the room.

Gomez looked at Morticia as he was pulled through the door, with longing in his eyes.

_Wednesday now, us later_ she mouthed to him.

When Gomez and Wednesday entered the play room her father was now carrying the bow. Wednesday had continued to trip over it.

_Perhaps something less 'in-the-way', like a crossbow would be better suited to my Paloma_ Gomez thought to himself.

"All right Wednesday, you are ready to learn?" he asked.

"Yes Father," replied Wednesday.

"Good," with that Gomez walked over to a large trunk in the corner of the room, which he opened. From it, he retrieved one large target, which he hung from a hook on the wall.

He then walked back to his daughter and passed her the bow.

"Hold it in front of you Paloma, like you're going to shoot," he told her.

Wednesday obliged. Gomez kneeled beside her.

He gently took the arm that was holding the bow in both his hands and adjusted it so that she held it more or less straight, "You need to hold it like this Paloma, or else you won't have much control of bow."

Wednesday nodded determined.

"Now pretend you have an arrow on it, and pull it back with your other arm," instructed her father.

Wednesday did as her father instructed. He lowered her elbow.

"Don't let your elbow stick out like that Paloma, it needs to be in a straight line here," he ran his hand along her arm from shoulder to elbow, demonstrating.

"Okay, now at ease," on his instruction Wednesday lowered her arms, "and pretend to shoot again."

Wednesday raised the bow again and after a few seconds of struggling within herself she managed to achieve the position that her father had put her in previously.

Gomez had her do this a few more times to make sure that she got the structure of her body right, she did.

"Alright Wednesday, now, load an arrow onto the bow," Gomez told her.

The small girl removed an arrow from its quiver, holding the bow flat, she mounted the arrow and hooked the tail end onto the string.

"Very good," her father praised, "now _without letting go_ pull it back and show me how you're going to shoot."

The girl raised the bow and pulled back the string, as she had been practising.

"Almost perfect," her father told her, "just look at your fingers, see how they're hooked around the string? It should be resting on the very tips of your fingers, here," he pointed at his fingers, demonstrating.

Wednesday slid her hand further from the string, "Like this Father?"

"That's it Wednesday, now aim at the target and shoot,"

Standing side on so the bow aimed at the target in front of her, Wednesday pulled back the arrow to her cheek, and released her grip, sending the arrow flying.

"You're a natural Wednesday," remarked her father.

And indeed she was, she had gotten a bullseye on her first attempt.

However, Wednesday was looking at her arm, "It got me, was that supposed to happen?"

Gomez examined his daughter's arm, "Sometimes the string hits your arm, even experts get it, don't be discouraged."

And she wasn't. Gomez had her shoot off the bow nearly one hundred times, or so it felt to Wednesday. Each time she hit the target on the centre, or within about three centimetres of the centre.

Gomez and Wednesday returned to the living room, both proud of the girl's achievements.

Morticia looked up as her family entered the room, she had been playing bridge with Grandma. She smiled at her daughter, and raised her eyebrows at her husband.

"How did you go?" she enquired.

"Brilliantly," replied Gomez, "Wednesday has a natural talent."

To demonstrate Wednesday raised the bow and shot an arrow into the cards her mother was holding.

Morticia smiled at her daughter, "That's wonderful Darling, but I think that we might have to set a few ground rules about where you can shoot," she paused, "I'm thinking it might be best if you were only to shoot outside."

The girl smiled apologetically at her mother, "Yes mother, but if the baby goes outside when I'm shooting, then I can't be held responsible for what happens to it."


	3. We gave her a bow

Gomez lay beside his beloved wife. It was three in the morning. He turned towards her, and watched her sleeping figure, he counted her breaths as they rose and fell. She smiled in her sleep and turned onto her side, so that she was facing him. Her eyes lazily opened.

"How long have you been staring at me?" she mumbled sleepily.

He smiled at her, "I haven't stopped since the day I first laid eyes on you."

She gently kissed his lips, he responded. They parted, and lay side by side, gazing into each other's eyes.

"I've been thinking," Gomez started.

"Yes?" asked Morticia.

"About Wednesday," he replied, "I think maybe the bow is too big for her."

"She aims it perfectly, and it's proportionate to her size, I don't understand what you mean?" said Morticia.

"She tripped over it a lot, this afternoon, when she was carrying it. Our daughter may have excellent aim, but that doesn't stop her from being clumsy. I thought, perhaps we ought to get her a cross bow, something smaller, that she can strap over her shoulder with no difficulty."

Morticia rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, "I understand. All right, tomorrow morning, first thing, we'll go out and get her a cross bow."

Gomez reached for Morticia's hand, she held onto his, and the couple fell asleep, hand in hand.

Little Wednesday's room was decorated with arrows. There were arrows everywhere, in the ceiling, the floor boards, there was a hole in the window where she'd shot one through. Sighing she got out of her bed and began to collect them all. She couldn't reach the ones on the ceiling, so she decided to go and get the one from outside and then get Lurch to do the reaching for her.

She made her way quickly down the stairs, not wanting to run into her parents and have to explain that her window is broken.

She did see them, but she dashed past, hoping that they wouldn't see her. They did.

"Wednesday!" calls her mother.

Wednesday ignores her, and continues on her way to the front door. Using two hands she pulls open the heavy wooden door, slips through, and slams it shut behind her.

Briefly she leans against the door, _I hope they didn't see me_, she thinks to herself. Then she dashes around the corner of the house to find the arrow.

Morticia and Gomez share a look, "What was that about?" asks Gomez.

Morticia shakes her head in confusion. Her husband can see that she is concerned about her daughter.

The pair hurry down the stairs after Wednesday.

Gomez opens the door for Morticia and follows her out into the morning light.

They look around, but neither can see the four and a half year old. They agree to split up, and then walk around either side of the house.

Morticia finds Wednesday first.

Wednesday looks lost, she is sniffing around the flower-less garden, looking under rocks and between dead blades of grass. She gets onto her hands and knees to look under a log. Morticia walks over to her daughter and kneels beside her. Wednesday looks up, having felt the presence of another being beside her.

"Mother," she looks shocked.

"Don't blush Wednesday, it ruins your pallor, what are you looking for darling?" asks Morticia.

Wednesday looks down, "I lost one of my new arrows," she mumbles.

Morticia smiles lovingly at her daughter, "That's nothing to be embarrassed about darling, we can just get you a new one."

Wednesday looks back at her mother, "Really, you're not mad?"

"Of course not, but how did it get out here?" asks Morticia.

Wednesday points a small finger at her bedroom window, Morticia sees the small hole and cracks in the glass.

"Don't worry darling, the newspaper boy has done worse than that. We can get it fixed," she pauses, "although, it is a lovely feature, maybe we should keep it like that…"

"Wednesday!" shouts Gomez as he comes over to them.

Morticia stands up and embraces her husband, "Don't worry darling, I've sorted it all out, I'll tell you later."

Gomez nods, trustingly at his wife. He then turns to his daughter and picks her up, "Shall we go in for breakfast?" he asks.

"Sure father, but first I want Lurch to get the arrows out of my ceiling," replies Wednesday.

Gomez laughs, "Of course Paloma."

The family returns to the house, Morticia instructs Lurch up to the girl's room on her way to the kitchen.

Gomez and Wednesday arrive at the kitchen first, he places her into a chair at the table, "What'll it be Paloma?" he asks as he heads to the pantry.

Wednesday thinks for a moment, decisions like this are pretty tough when you're four and a half years old after all, "Caviar."

"Caviar?" asks Morticia as she walks into the room, "I prefer the larvae stage."

"Well, I'm younger, so I like the eggs, plus eggs are for breakfast," reasoned Wednesday.

"Of course Dear," Morticia walks over to Gomez, who is standing at the counter, she places a hand on his back, and gestures that he should sit down.

Morticia finishes making everyone's breakfast and then takes the food to the table and sits down with her family.

"Wednesday," starts Morticia, ''your father and I have been thinking."

Wednesday looks up at her mother, momentarily startled, _What have I done this time?_ she tries to remember anything significant enough to warrant her getting in trouble, but comes up blank.

"Don't look so alarmed Wednesday," her mother smiled, "it's not bad."

The girl relaxes, "What is it then?" she demanded.

"We thought, perhaps you might like a cross bow, instead of a regular old bow," Gomez interjects.

Wednesday thinks for a minute, "Why? I'm good with the bow?"

"Well," starts Morticia, "it's just that a cross bow might be easier for you, at least until you get bigger, your father is worried that you might injure yourself, tripping over the bow."

Gomez nods in agreement.

Wednesday takes another minute to think, "Okay," she says at last, "I'll try it, but as soon as I'm bigger, I want to use a bow again."

"Of course Darling," Morticia smiled at her daughter.

Later that afternoon while Morticia was knitting some black booties for her soon to be born child and Wednesday was sawing her decapitated doll's leg off, Gomez went out to the shops to purchase his daughter a new bow.

"Mother?" asked Wednesday, looking up from her sawing.

"Yes Darling," Morticia put her knitting in her lap.

"Will the baby be a boy or a girl?" she asked.

Morticia sighed gently, "Your father and I have decided that we don't want to know, so it may be one or the other," she paused briefly and then continued with a smile, "or both."

"Oh."

"Why did you want to know Darling?" asked Morticia.

"Well, if it's a girl, I thought I could teach her to hunt, like you and Father taught me, but I wouldn't know what to do with a boy."

Morticia smiled at her daughter, "I'm sure you'll be a good big sister," she told her daughter, knowing exactly what the girl was worrying about.

Wednesday smiled back at her mother.

At that moment Gomez came through the door with the new crossbow.

Wednesday jumped up immediately, "Give it to me!" she demanded.

Gomez obliged.

The girl loaded an arrow onto it and fired.

"I like my new crossbow," she stated as she picked up her old bow and snapped it.

She never looked back once, and she would never again be anywhere without her crossbow somewhere nearby.


	4. We gave her no shame

**a/n: I'd just like to thank you all for being so patient with my inconsistent updates. And thank you to those of you who have reviewed and offered advice, it is much appreciated.  
Disclaimer, I still don't own it. **

Wednesday was mad, she didn't know why she was mad, she just knew that she was. The six year old was sat in the corner of the large attic of the Addams Family mansion. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and she hugged them tightly.

She had worked herself into such a frenzy that she had tears pooling in her eyes. She didn't care to wipe them away. She didn't care if her parents saw her. Let them see how upset she was.

She paused in her thoughts, _Maybe I'm upset, not mad?_ However, she decided that it was much easier to be mad than sad, so she settled with that.

She bit back a small sob, catching her bottom lip in her teeth to keep from crying out. By the time someone eventually came into the attic she had worked herself up to hiccups.

There was a creak as the trapdoor swung open and slammed into the floor. Wednesday's tear streaked face looked up to see who had finally come for her, it was her Grandma.

"Wednesday!" the _old_ lady exclaimed when she saw the mess of a girl in front of her.

Wednesday wiped her eyes with her small arm, "Grandmama," she hiccuped.

Grandma Addams (or possibly Frump, as nobody could quite remember which side of the family she was from) walked over to Wednesday and lifted her up, the old woman was certainly strong.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm being mad," the girl faltered.

"I see," replied her Grandma.

"Why are you up here? Are you mad too?" asked Wednesday.

"No, no," replied Grandma frankly, "I came up here to smoke weed."

"Can I help, I like fires," asked Wednesday.

"Not till you're older," Grandma promised the girl.

She carried little Wednesday out of the attic and into the parlour, where Morticia was looking around, rather frantic.

The mother turned around, "Wednesday!" she cried, primarily in relief.

She rushed over and took the child from Grandma's arms, "Thank you Mama, will you please find Gomez and send him in here?"

With that the old woman turned and left.

Morticia put Wednesday down on the park bench beside the fireplace. She lovingly stroked her daughter's tear drenched cheek. The girl hiccuped in response. Morticia embraced the girl until she stopped crying (and hiccuping), it was in this position that Gomez entered the room.

Gomez sat down on the bench beside Morticia, "Wednesday, where have you been, your mother and I have been looking everywhere."

"Sorry Father," replied Wednesday, pulling on a braid.

"Don't be sorry Wednesday, you caused fear and concern in both your parents, for that, we are very proud, but we do want to know where you have been, and why you are so upset," said Morticia.

"I've been being mad," replied Wednesday.

Gomez and Morticia shared a look, "Mad?" asked Morticia, "mad at what darling?"

Wednesday shrugged, "I don't know."

Morticia gently pulled Gomez towards her by his fob, "Do you suppose she is mad at us,"

"Querida, why would she be mad at us?" asked Gomez.

"Pugsley?" suggested Morticia as she let go of the chain, "Wednesday, darling, are you mad because of your little brother?"

Wednesday thought about it. She had thought that she was just mad, but now that her mother mentioned it, she was kind of mad about Pugsley. She looked at her mother and shrugged.

Morticia smiled, "You know we love you both the same right?"

"But you _only _loved me before he was born," said Wednesday with a sniff.

Morticia and Gomez shared a look.

"Paloma, we have to love your brother, otherwise he wouldn't be happy," Gomez explained, rather poorly.

"He's never happy," argued Wednesday, "he is _always_ crying."

"Babies can't talk, Paloma, so they have to cry to let us know what they want," Gomez told her.

"That's stupid," Wednesday frowned.

"Wednesday! Don't talk to your father like that," interjected Morticia, she paused, "where is Pugsley anyway?"

"I thought he was with Fester?" Gomez mused.

"No, Fester and Itt went to the movies," said Morticia.

Wednesday mumbled something.

"What was that Paloma?" asked Gomez.

Wednesday sighed, "I said, he was crying to loud, so I locked him in the iron maiden."

Morticia and Gomez looked at the girl in shock, then they both promptly stood and rushed to the playroom. Wednesday followed behind them slowly.

The parents hurried into the room, Gomez ran to open the iron maiden, it was locked, he turned sharply on his daughter.

"Where is the key?" he asked.

Wednesday shrugged.

"Wednesday!" shouted Morticia.

Wednesday stood in shock, that was the first time her mother had ever spoken harshly to her. Tears pricked at her eyes. She removed her shoe and shook it. The key fell onto the floor, Gomez swiped it up and unlocked the torture device.

Both adults let out a sigh of relief when they saw the child unharmed, actually laughing, Morticia scooped him up into her arms. Then she and Gomez inspected their son, making sure that he was unharmed. They turned to their weeping daughter, still only wearing one shoe. Gomez picked up the small item of footwear and then Wednesday. He looked at Morticia.

"I think it's time we had a family meeting," he said to his wife.

Gomez had sent Lurch to gather the rest of the Addams family for a meeting. Morticia, still holding Pugsley, Gomez, and Wednesday were seated at the dining table.

Wednesday looked at her lap, "I'm sorry," she mumbled through her tears.

"For locking your brother up?" asked Morticia gently.

Wednesday looked at her, rather crossly, "No, why would I be sorry about that?!" she paused, "I'm sorry for not being strong, and for crying…"

Gomez shifted his seat so her was close enough to engulf the girl in his arms, "There's no shame in that, Paloma," he assured her, "it's okay to cry sometimes, if you feel badly, or even if you're hurt."

Wednesday looked at him, "Even if you're an Addams?"

Morticia smiled at her daughter, "Even if you're an Addams," she confirmed.

Wednesday hesitated, "I'm still not sorry about locking up stupid Pugsley."

"Wednesday, don't call your brother names," reprimanded Gomez.

"Why aren't you sorry darling?" asked Morticia.

"Because he liked it," replied Wednesday, "he stopped crying and he even laughed, I've never heard him laugh before."

Morticia and Gomez looked at each, realising that they too, had never heard him laugh before that.

"I think Pugsley liked being tortured," continued Wednesday, "so I guess he really is an Addams."

With that she got up off her seat and walked around the table to her mother, she gently hugged Pugsley, who was still on her lap.

The parents smiled at each other. At that moment Lurch, Grandma, Fester, and Itt entered the dining room.

"What's this?" asked Fester.

"I've decided I'm not mad anymore," replied Wednesday, looking at her uncle.

Soon everyone had taken a seat around the dining table. As head of the family, Gomez rose to address the issue at hand.

"Pugsley, as Wednesday has decided, is now old enough to enjoy the ancient Addams past-time of torture," he paused as he waited for his family's cheering in response to subside, "as such, I think we need to lay out a few ground rules."

He sat back down, and Morticia looked at her daughter, "We have decided that, as Pugsley seems to be happy with whatever cruelty you administer to him, you may do what you please, but," she paused, making sure her daughter was listening, "you are not to leave any lasting damage, he is still only little after all, so that means no guillotines, and no directly aimed explosives."

Wednesday nodded, "Can I go play with him now?" she asked.

"Of course darling," replied Morticia.

The meeting ended and Wednesday went over to her mother to take Pugsley.

Morticia handed over the small child. Wednesday turned to leave.

"Wednesday," her mother called her back.

Wednesday turned around, squeezing her brother, probably just a little bit too tightly, to ensure she didn't drop him in front of her mother, "Yes Mother?"

"Remember, that if you are hurt, or you're feeling angry or sad, like you were today, you can tell me or your father, we'll give you no shame," Morticia told her.

"Yes Mother," Wednesday responded with a small, trusting smile.

With that the girl turned around to go and push her baby brother down the stairs a few times.


	5. Made sure she was bad

**a/n: I want to apologise for the delay in the update. It was partially due to being out of internet range, and partially due to a small bout of writer's block. So I am sorry about that.  
As always, feel free to review and let me know what you think, or if you think I could do better, have advice etc.  
Disclaimer: Strangely, I don't own it yet. **

The beginning of a new school year was always stressful for Wednesday. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the emotional suppression, it was the other children that spoiled it.

Morticia and Gomez had decided to drop their two offspring off at their classrooms this year, unlike every other year, where they had let the children make their own way to school. Having already dropped Pugsley off, and having pried his arms from around his mother's legs to do so, it was now Wednesday's turn. The girl, now thirteen and a half, was even more reluctant to enter the classroom than her brother, although she would never admit it.

She tried to reason with her parents, "Mother, Father, you know that it is pointless, walking me to the door, I'll only turn around and leave."

"Darling, please just _try_, it's only for another few years, then you'll graduate," Morticia tried to reason.

"I don't like the other children, they're too," she paused, as though the word she would say next may somehow offend her parents, "chipper."

"Nonsense Paloma! It can't be all that bad," exclaimed Gomez.

"It is," said Wednesday sharply, as she turned on her heel and entered the classroom, slamming the door in the faces of her parents without so much as a goodbye.

Morticia and Gomez were shocked, to say the least. But silently agreed to just let the girl be and to speak to her later when she and Pugsley got home from school.

The students inside the classroom looked up as the door slammed shut with a bang. Wednesday marched directly to the only adult in the room, the teacher.

"Where do I sit?" she demanded.

"Anywhere you like, dear," said the teacher with a smile as she hurried to reopen the door.

Wednesday turned sharply and made her way to the back of the class room. Unfortunately all of the back seats were occupied by the 'cool' kids. This was no obstacle for Wednesday. She picked her target, a pimply boy who still had the majority of his baby fat, he had a stern look on his face and everything about him shouted _BULLY!_

Wednesday approached him, he looked up at her.

"What do you want?" he taunted.

"You're in my seat," said Wednesday.

"Na ah, I got here first! It's my seat," the boy replied.

"I want to sit here," replied Wednesday coldly, "I will, or would you like me to gouge your eyes out with that pencil first?" she asked pointing at a pencil that was lying on _her_ desk.

"Do you wanna fight?" asked the boy toughly, standing up.

"If that's what it takes to get you out of my seat," resigned Wednesday with a sigh.

The teacher had finally noticed the commotion and walked over to the two children, "Just what is going here?"

Wednesday looked at the woman sternly, "He won't get out of my seat."

"Brian is that right?" asked the teacher.

"NO! I was here first! She's trying to make me get out of my seat, she said she was gunna gouge out my eyes!" shouted the boy.

By this point the whole class was staring in at the spectacle the boy was making of them.

"What is your name?" the teacher asked Wednesday.

"Wednesday Addams," replied the girl, "and he is in my seat, you said I could sit anywhere I like, and I would like to sit here."

With that Wednesday slid around the boy and onto his seat.

"He-ey!" whined the boy, Brian.

"What? It's my seat," Wednesday deadpanned.

The teacher was at a loss of what to do, "Wednesday, stand up please, and give Brian back his seat."

"It's not Brian's seat, it's mine," replied Wednesday.

"Stand up please," said the teacher, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Wednesday glared.

"Now!" shouted the teacher.

Wednesday bit her lip, then she stood up so quickly that her chair fell down with a clatter, making the majority of her class mates jump. Wednesday shot the teacher another glare and then made to leave the classroom. The teacher stood in front of her.

"And just where do you think you're going Miss Addams?" asked the teacher sternly.

Without replying Wednesday made to leave. The teacher grabbed her arm.

"I think it's time you paid a visit to the principal, and on the first day, I can tell that we're going to get along famously aren't we?"

Wednesday half-heartedly struggled, but then resigned and allowed the teacher to lead her out of the class room. She figured that maybe her parents would see that she didn't fit in here and let her go home.

Wednesday soon found herself sitting in the principal's office waiting for her mother and father to come. Every so often the principal would look up from his paper work at the girl, sitting quietly in the corner as she stared intently at the door.

Their was a knock at the door.

"Come in," the principal called out calmly.

"Mr and Mrs Addams," announced the secretary as the couple walked into the small office.

The principal stood up, "Mr and Mrs Addams, please take a seat," they shook hands as the couple sat down in front of the principal's desk, "I am Mr. Kent."

"Hello Mr Kent," Morticia smiled as she turned to look at her daughter, seated behind them, still in the corner.

Wednesday grimaced in wry amusement.

"Wednesday darling," her mother addressed her, "Why don't you come sit over here with us," she indicated the remaining empty chair beside her.

"Mrs Addams," started Mr Kent, "it is customary to leave the student out of this discussion."

"Nonsense," exclaimed Gomez, "how do you expect to keep their respect if you treat your students like children, Paloma, come over here."

Wednesday stood and began to walk over to her new seat beside her mother.

"The students _are _ children," Mr Kent tried to reason.

"They don't have to be treated as such," said Morticia patting her daughter's knee, "now why have you called us here?"

'' Your daughter was causing quite a disturbance in class this morning," the principal told Gomez and Morticia.

They both looked towards their daughter and grinned at her, she smiled back at them.

The principal explained what had happened that morning to the proud parents and told Wednesday that she would be let off with a warning, as it was the first day, but she would be sent home early.

On the way home the three Addamses, Gomez, Morticia and Wednesday sat in the back of their family hearse, while Lurch drove in silence.

After a few minutes of silence Wednesday spoke up, "Are you going to pull me out of school now?"

Her parents were silent for a few more moments.

"Is that what this is all about?" asked Morticia quietly.

"You don't usually misbehave this early in the school year," continued Gomez.

"You didn't answer my question," said Wednesday, not answering her mother's question.

"No, we aren't going to take you out of school," answered Morticia, "actually we're quite proud of you."

"Proud of me?" Wednesday was confused.

"We weren't certain that we were making sure you are bad enough," said Gomez, "now we know we've done our job."

"Oh," said Wednesday quietly, she turned away from her parents and looked out of the window, "I still want to leave that awful place."

Morticia and Gomez shared a look.

"But Paloma, when you're unhappy you're able to be bad," said Gomez.

"Much more than you would if you were happy, and besides, doesn't being bad insight a degree of glee in you?" continued Morticia.

"I guess," said Wednesday, still looking out of the window.

Now half way through the school year the students in Wednesday's class were about to begin a new topic. Stranger danger. The students were taught the importance of travelling in groups, or at least with one other person, and not talking to strangers. The lessons perplexed Wednesday, she brought it up with her mother when she got home that day.

Pugsley and Gomez were raiding the kitchen to see if they could find any henbane for an experiment, Grandmama was trying to prevent them from messing up the kitchen. Fester was showing Itt and Thing his new dynamite caps, and no one was actually sure where Lurch was. That left Wednesday and Morticia in the living room, the mother knitting, and the girl plucking threads out of the carpet.

"Mother," said Wednesday looking up from her task.

"Yes darling?" asked Morticia, putting down her knitting to give her attention to the child.

"I'm confused," started Wednesday, Morticia nodded slightly for her to continue, "we've been learning about stranger danger today in class."

"What's that?" asked Morticia.

"That's what I'm confused about, you always said to be kind to strangers, but the teacher is telling us to avoid them," the girl explained.

With that Morticia stood up, "I'm calling that school right now to withdraw you and Pugsley, what an irresponsible thing to be teaching children!"

Wednesday smiled, "I'm glad you finally see reason, now I don't have to go to that place and … mingle."

"No, never again, you and Pugsley will be homeschooled from here on out," said Morticia to her daughter.

Wednesday frowned slightly at that, but then decided that even having her family teach her lessons would be better than the stupid lessons she had taken at school.


End file.
